


Three Little Words

by afteriwake



Series: Where Speech Ends [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock almost told Molly he loved her the day of their six month anniversary, and two days later he's still thinking about whether he really does or not. A song on the iPod he took from Molly makes him realize that yes, he does love her, and he needs to tell her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Little Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [horrorfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorfangirl/gifts).



> So yeah, I truly believe Sherlock would take six months to admit something everyone knew from day one. ::nods:: This fic was inspired by "Something Changed" by Sara Groves, which I never would have heard if my friend had not given me her laptop to use when mine broke and left all of her music on it, so thanks very much, Lexi!

**Do you always smile for pictures?**

He couldn't sleep. There were no thoughts of cases on his mind tonight, pieces of evidence he needed to stitch together the meanings of to solve a crime, but his thoughts were racing nonetheless, making sleep impossible. It wasn't as though he wasn't exhausted; he'd spent the last forty-eight hours solving Mycroft's very important case, getting no sleep at all the entire time. He should have been ready to drop from exhaustion, having pushed himself to his absolute limit. But as he laid in bed he couldn't stop thinking about the scene in Molly's lab two days prior, the day of their six month anniversary. About what he had said and what he had _almost_ said. He'd almost said he'd loved her, and then stopped himself at the last moment. And he was wondering just why he had done that.

He had spent almost his entire life avoiding attachments of all types: to family, to friends, to the world at large. It had been a very lonely life at times, but as long as he could exercise his mind and learn things and stretch it to new levels of greatness then he was content. And when he was a child and the Carl Powers case had caught his attention, he'd found something in his life to focus on, and ignoring the fact he was lonely was much easier. He dedicated the rest of his childhood and teen years to studying crime and figuring out how to solve anything put in front of him. You didn't need friends or significant others to do that. It got harder when he went to university, though. There the world pressed in all the time. There were distractions of all sorts, and he was able to ignore most of them. He allowed himself to have acquaintances, knowing that eventually he would need people to help him when he decided to put his well honed deductive skills to good use, and he interacted with them at a minimal level, enough to keep himself in their good graces. But every once in a while someone would attempt to elevate their status, and he would be forced to focus more attention on them for a time before he could cry off.

His final year at university he got dragged to a party, and that was when he was introduced to heroin. For the first time, he'd found something that felt like a balm to his frenzied mind. He managed well enough the last term he was there and even managed to graduate with honors, but slowly heroin was worming its way into his life. He decided to take a year to see what opportunities were available to him, but he squandered it, choosing heroin over his future. People were concerned but he didn't care. The drug's grip was too strong, until the night it overpowered him. If it hadn't been for his brother having constant surveillance on him he could have died in the flophouse. As it stood, he was hauled to rehab once he woke up. As he struggled with the agonizing withdrawal he realized the only future he had if he went back to drugs was a short one, and all his potential greatness would be wasted. He kept that thought close as he worked through it all, but after some time he felt he had a solid enough grip on his sobriety to be a part of society again.

His brother had given him the introductions to key members of Scotland Yard but said after that he was on his own, and he had best make an impression. It was hard, and most of the Yarders gave him one chance which he would then promptly blow by being an arrogant arsehole. But Lestrade didn't seem to care. He took the arrogance in stride, even if the others on his team did not. He smoothed over ruffled feathers and calmed agitated people down but most importantly he let Sherlock do what he needed. And it was in the course of his fifth case with Lestrade that he had met Molly. He'd been used to Michael McDowd, who was a surly and belligerent old coot who ran the St. Bart's morgue with an iron fist. But when he went in for the results on the victim McDowd was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a much younger female who smiled easily and was warm to him. He knew that he could use that to his advantage, but she was also quite intelligent and didn't fall for his bluff that he was a DI with Scotland Yard. He had to admit, he admired that about her, that she had let him know firmly but politely she needed Lestrade's permission before she gave him the results he needed. They had more and more interactions, and he learned the bare minimum about her that he had to. It wasn't until John became involved in his life and John became friendly with her that he learned the more intimate details, and he wondered why he had ignored them. There had been much more to Molly than met the eye.

He had never imagined she would be so important to him when they first met. He'd figured she would be a tool he could use, and then later she became a resource, and then an acquaintance. Now she was more than that to him. She was a friend, of course; even with the change in their relationship status she was still a friend. But now she was also a woman who he would do anything for, who he would give up his life for without hesitation, who he saw himself having a future with. She was important to him, more important than anyone. Even more important than John, if he was being honest, though John was still quite important to him. And he was wondering if all of that put together meant he was actually in love with her.

He turned and glanced at his bedside clock. It was only eight fourteen, and he doubted he would fall asleep until at least after midnight. He sighed and got Molly's iPod out of its charging dock on his nightstand before reaching for the headphones and plugging them in. He had set it to play randomly the last time he used it and felt it best to do the same this time. He started it and put the earbuds in his ears, listening as a song he'd heard countless time started. He didn't want to listen to it so he hit the button for the next song and settled in. It started and he realized he didn't recognize it. He'd asked Molly to add any songs that had caught her fancy a week ago, simply because it gave him an idea of what he would be listening to when he was at her home. He paid closer attention than he'd planned on so he could see if it would be something that set his teeth on edge or not after listening to it multiple times. 

_Something changed inside me_  
_Broke wide open, all spilled out_  
_Till I had no doubt_  
_That something changed_

_Never would have believed it_  
_Till I felt it in my own heart_  
_In the deepest part_  
_The healing came_

He had begun to sit up slowly at the beginning of the second verse. Once again it seemed as though exactly what he needed to hear was playing. He reached over for his mobile and keyed in his password. He went for his text function as the song continued and keyed in a text to Molly. _Still awake? SH_ He sent it and then waited for a response. He didn't get one right away, and so he frowned. Perhaps she too had attempted to have an early night. He debated calling her just to make sure, but he thought she wouldn't appreciate the intrusion, so he decided against it, settling in to listen to music. He'd hoped she would be awake because he had a sudden urge to talk to her, to see if he could get out what he should have said two days ago.

He'd given up getting a response ten minutes later when he got an incoming call. He pulled out the headphones and answered the call. “I'm so sorry I didn't text back.” she said. “I know you were planning on getting some rest, but I figured if you were awake enough to text that maybe you'd want to talk.”

“Apparently I can't sleep,” he said. “Too many thoughts swarming in my head.”

“Well, maybe I can keep you company? They're doing maintenance in the office so I don't have to be in until eleven tomorrow.”

“A shortened workday, then?” he asked.

“Well, possibly. I mean, I'll have to stay later if I want a full day's pay, but the late start will be nice. I can stay up late with you if it's going to take you a while to go to sleep.”

“I think you may be up quite late,” he said. “But I would enjoy your company. And take a cab; it will be quicker.”

“All right. I'll be over soon.” She hung up and he put the iPod sitting on his chest back on his nightstand. He debated changing out of his pyjamas but there really wasn't much of a point; the goal was for him to eventually go to sleep, so changing into regular clothes and then back into his pyjamas was pointless. He got his dressing gown off the back of his door and slipped it on. It was a bit hard because he was still holding his mobile, but he managed in the end. He went out to the kitchen and looked at the state of it. He could offer a few things to eat if she was hungry and tea if she was thirsty. That should work well enough.

He went to the sofa and flopped down on it, going through the various things on his phone. He went through his gallery and looked at the pictures on it. He'd begun to take pictures of Molly when she was unaware. In some of the pictures she was deep in thought and so had a slight frown on her face. In two of them she was biting her lip. But in most of them she had some sort of smile on her face. It wasn't always a wide one, just a small curling of her lips in most of them, but he enjoyed the sight. He knew she had pictures of the both of them, some of which she'd taken herself and some others had taken with her phone. He'd seen the album when he had commandeered her phone out of boredom when she was cooking one evening and sent a few of the ones where Molly looked particularly nice to himself, and he viewed those now too. It was strange seeing proof that she liked being close to him, and that he didn't mind being close to her sometimes, but comforting as well. It made him feel as though he was at least a little bit normal and not some strange specimen of humanity with no feelings whatsoever.

He heard her let herself in nearly a half hour later, and he looked up. She came into the sitting room, carrying her handbag on her shoulder and a covered dish in her hands. He raised an eyebrow. “My supper,” she said. “I'd just sat down to eat. I didn't think you'd mind if I brought it with me.” She came over and sat next to him, leaning over and kissing his cheek. Her food actually smelled quite good, and his stomach grumbled involuntarily. She chuckled at that. “There's enough for you too, if you'd like some,” she said. “It's roast with potatoes, mushrooms, carrots and peas.”

“Thank you,” he said. She got up and went towards his table. She set the plate down and then went for another plate and eating utensils in his kitchen, singing to herself. He recognized the song as the one he'd paid close attention to just before he'd texted her. He'd actually listened to it a few times before she called him. As he got up to join her he realized she was at the part that had resonated the most, and he found himself singing the first few lines of the third verse. “Something so amazing, in a heart so dark and dim,” he said. She stopped what she was doing and turned to stare at him, her mouth open and her eyes wide. “When the walls fall down and the light comes in,” he finished.

“How did you know that song?” she asked. And then she shut her eyes and shook her head. “I added new music last week. I hadn't meant to add that one.”

“I actually liked it,” he said.

“Apparently,” she said, a small smile crossing her face. “It's an inspirational song, though.”

“I gathered that from the 'Thank you Lord' lyrics,” he said. “But I ignored that bit.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “Well, since you ignored the religious aspect, what did it say to you?”

“I thought it was a song about finding something that gave you strength and hope. About being loved greatly, and loving that thing in return.”

“It could definitely be heard that way,” she said with a smile.

He was quiet for a moment, then stepped close to her, He reached over and gently touched her face, and she looked up at him, a slight look of confusion in her eyes. “You love me, don't you, Molly?” he asked.

She was surprised for a moment, but nodded slowly. “Yes, Sherlock, I do. I've been in love with you for a while now. I just didn't know if you wanted to hear it, if you thought I would have to hear it in return. I know you might never say it to me, and that's all right. I unders--”

He cut her off by kissing her, the type of kiss that apparently made her weak in the knees because she reached up to cling to him and stay upright. She pulled away first but stayed close, and he put a hand to the small of her back to keep her there. “I should have told you this sooner but I do love you, Molly. Very much.”

He could see a wide smile blossom on her face and she moved her hands to frame his face. “Really?” she asked. “You really love me?”

“I do,” he said, nodding slightly.

She leaned in and kissed him again, a much softer kiss than the previous one. “I love you too, Sherlock,” she said against his lips when she pulled away. “And I'll tell you whenever you want to hear it.” He grinned at that and held her close, wanting to remember every aspect of this moment. He would make that same promise to her, that he would do whatever it took to make sure he showed her how he felt and tell her the words as often as he could so that she never doubted it because he knew she would do the same for him. But right now he wanted to savor this moment, this absolutely perfect moment, because he had never felt closer to someone than he did to her. This was a next step for them, and he was eager to see where it led next.


End file.
